


Someday, With Grace

by starlurker



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Angst, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlurker/pseuds/starlurker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cliches are true, but not right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday, With Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Post endgame fic.

Luke can't look at Chris and Katie. Not just yet. There will come a time when he can look at them and be happy, but he doesn't think it will be soon. The medical team who harvested organs was quick with the body, taking out the heart, but also the eyes, lungs, kidneys and liver. Luke wasn't certain if skin was included, but he hoped it was. He had loved the feel of it under his hands, those precious few moments snatched away in between indecision and clarity. A burn victim traumatically injured somewhere deserved skin grafts to make the scarring go away.

His office wasn't enough distraction. Luke thought that work would help somehow, but it hasn't. He blamed work in some obscure way -- it had stolen time away, but then, he didn't know that they would have so little. The rest of their lives seemed to stretch before them; two independent men with an excess of intellect and money who could have taken the world by storm.

Luke looked at the 100 e-mails lying unopened on his laptop. He pressed the off switch, not caring that he didn't shut down properly. Data loss wasn't that important.

He put on his jacket and walked out of the office building. His secretary said a soft goodbye, which Luke returned with a nod.

The wind was crisp, the sun bright. The parking lot was full of cars but empty of people. He went into his car and pressed the button for ignition (_You are clearly the laziest, most privileged person I've ever known. What is your opposition to keys?_). A piece of paper was under the passenger seat. Luke wasn't normally a slob, but the past few weeks have felt like a fever dream. He bent down to grab it and saw that it was wax paper, transparent in some spots due to grease. Panicked, he looked for a garbage can and saw one a few feet away. He got out of the car, crumpling the paper as he ran to throw it away.

Walking back to his car was slower, calmer. Fall was giving way to winter. The trees were barren, their leaves drifting as the breeze picked them up to spin them into little tornadoes. Cars were zooming by, and Luke was enough of his father's son to notice that some of the cars had already switched to winter tires. It was a beautiful day.

***

He opened the front door and saw Noah on the couch.

"Hey," Noah said, hesitation in his voice, his stance.

"Hi, Noah," Luke said.

"Lily invited me to dinner. Hope you don't mind."

"Nah," Luke said. He dropped off his bag and took off his coat. "Did you hear back from your school?"

"I'm deferring for a year."

Luke felt lava run through his veins. "Don't put your life on hold on my account. I can tell you right now I don't appreciate it."

"I'm not deferring for you," Noah said gently. "The money I was counting on fell through."

"Jesus Christ, Noah," Luke snapped. "Why the hell didn't you just say so? I can loan you the money--"

"I think we both know why that wasn't an option."

Luke closed his eyes and counted to ten. (_You love him, Luke. I wasn't expecting that to go away. And coming from me, you know this is rich -- you'd be a freak if you forgot or let go that easily. I'm not saying I like it, but that's my privilege in this scenario. I don't have to be mature about it._)

When he opened his eyes, there was Noah once again, his face having no filters whatsoever. Luke didn't understand why looking at him was so hard. Noah, gentle and so confused except when he wasn't, so loving and affectionate except when he wasn't. More time lost. Always more time lost.

"What's Mom making?" Luke asked.

Noah smiled, which came out as a half-grimace. "Pasta puttanesca, I think."

"I can't believe you're still offended by that name."

"I'm a prude, you know that." Noah grinned this time, sincere and so transparent about wanting only to please.

I wish you could, Luke thought. I wish I could let myself be wrapped up in your arms and forget all this. He smiled instead. "I hope she remembered to buy fresh parmesan," he said.

***

The next day, Luke was in town wondering what sandwich to get for lunch when he saw Chris and Katie with Jacob in his stroller. Chris was walking slowly, his face still ashen. Luke made eye contact with Katie and ran away from them, ignoring the cries of 'Luke' ringing out behind him.

The rest of his day was shot to pieces. He felt like screaming. He felt like going into the creek, going underwater and holding his breath for as long as he could, just to make the world disappear for a few minutes. He went to the train tracks instead.

Night was coming sooner these days. The moon was already a crescent in the sky, even as the last bits of sun were disappearing from the west. The tracks gleamed dully in the approaching darkness. He wasn't morbid enough to be at the exact same spot, but here, he allowed himself to wonder about what could have been.

(_I had a patient called Albee Mays who died on the operating table. It hadn't happened in a while, and you get cocky when you have a streak of success. Then one day, Albee came in. She said she liked popcorn, something called Bat for Lashes, and coffee. One of the bravest people I ever knew._)

The chill was settling in the air. Luke saw his breath coming out in wisps. He tilted his head up and tried to blow smoke rings with his breath and failed each time.

***

Was it Monday or Tuesday or Saturday? He couldn't remember when his alarm clock rang. His door opened with his mom and dad having their concerned faces on. He got up on his elbows and winced at the sunlight coming through his window.

"Rise and shine, honey," his mom said.

You didn't like him, Luke thought. (_Who was that hottie?_)

His dad sat down on the bed. "You don't have to go to work today," he said. "That's one of the perks of owning your own company."

Luke collapsed on his back. "How many businessmen still live with their parents?" he wondered idly.

He felt the bed sink further, his mom's hand brushing away the hair on his forehead.

"Luke," his mom said, her voice trembling. "I wish I could make this better. Easier."

Without warning, Luke felt his eyes well up. He let them fall, hot tears turning cool as they slid down his face. A large hand went on his shoulder, slowly rubbing circles in comfort.

"I hacked into hospital records," Luke said. "Well, I didn't hack into them, but I bullied someone into giving me access." His voice broke twice. He kept looking up and saw the light fixture in his room coated with dust. I should really clean that, he thought.

The 'why' went largely unspoken.

"Elizabeth Pena got some of his skin. Lyle Wray got his liver. Michael Smith got his lungs. Tyrone Gibbs got his corneas."

"Oh honey," his mom said.

"All this money," Luke said, "and I can't buy time." His vision was blurry and his chest hurt so badly.

"This is a stupid thing to say," his dad said, "but it doesn't mean it's untrue. Things will get better."

"That is a stupid thing to say," Luke said. "Please get out." He got his blanket and turned his back to his parents. (_Spare me your maudlin melodrama. You're young, hot and rich. Get over yourself._)

I can't, Luke thought.

***

He has avoided the hospital successfully for the past few weeks with great success considering he's on the board and financing a neurosurgery wing. This meeting was unavoidable though, but Bob assured him that it would be as quick as possible.

Chris was in a wheelchair when Luke ran into him. Luke felt his face stiffen into a mask.

"At least you're not running away," Chris said.

"Why are you in a wheelchair?" Luke asked.

Chris winced. Luke knew he sounded hostile but didn't give a fuck. "I get weak sometimes. It's nothing unusual."

There were so many questions that Luke wanted to ask, but he controlled himself.

"I'll take care of it, Luke," Chris said.

"You better," Luke said. "Your track record is pathetic when it comes to that. So's your lack of gratitude."

Chris bowed his head. He spoke softly. "I'll get better at that," he said. He raised his head and Luke was surprised to see tears there. "I never wanted this, Luke."

(_Doogie was such a killjoy in college. Everything was about equality and fairness, which I didn't get. If there's anything medicine teaches you, it's that life is gruesomely unfair. That was comforting. Well, to me._)

Luke wanted to be the better person, but he wasn't there yet. The best thing to do was walk away, so he did.

***

That night, he dreamed he was swimming in a pond with fireflies in the air. It was sticky and muggy but the cool water made it all better. Luke floated on his back and watched the moonlight filter through the dense leaves. He felt the fish in the water brush up against his back and his calves. There was someone swimming, his body -- Luke knew it was a man for some reason -- cutting through the water like a knife, creating small waves that rocked Luke gently as he drifted on the surface.

Luke knew who it was without looking. He felt strong, capable hands running all over his body. He didn't turn his head and he savored the feeling before the big reveal.

"You're late," Luke said. "You're always late." He heard a laugh, then a dive under water, the splash of water from feet going on his face. The water crested and Luke knew the man was to his left now.

This time, Luke turned his head.

"Hi, Reid."

***

Luke woke up feeling the same weight on his shoulders, the same crushing pressure in his chest, the same ache that seemed to linger in the back of his head.

I'll get up, Luke thought. I'll work on some contracts today.

He got up slowly, put one foot ahead of the other, and started his day.

THE END


End file.
